


Well Met By Moonlight

by Chysgoda



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/M, Hein ran out of willing diplomats, Magnai gets a clue, This isn't my fault I was enabled, Yugiri is not impressed, bombastic declarations of love, characters and tags to be added as needed, eventually, get to know you, no beta we just die, probably slow burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-17 23:22:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21668074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chysgoda/pseuds/Chysgoda
Summary: Every diplomat that Hein has sent to the Azim Steppe has come running back. With no more willing diplomats the Lord of Doma calls on one person he knows will not be scared off by the tribes of the Xaela.Yugiri MistwalkerA series of short stories documenting the interactions of Magnai Oronir and Yugiri Mistwalker
Relationships: Magnai Oronir/Yugiri Mistwalker
Comments: 5
Kudos: 19





	Well Met By Moonlight

**The Diplomat**

  
  


There were few sights Magnai held more sacred than dawn above Azim Khaat. That this dawn came after his victory in the Nadham added additional savor. Leadership again rested with the Oronir on the Dawn Throne, though it was galling to know it was because of who had chosen to not fight. The Warrior of Light had been absent from dawn until dusk the day of the Nadham before she had appeared next to the Aetheryte crystal with her foster daughters (technically daughter and daughter's best friend but she’d never bothered to correct anyone). They had paid their respects and joined the party, leaving him to wonder about the shadows in the Warrior’s eyes and the concerned looks of the young Dragoons with her. 

Looking out across the grasslands he set that issue aside. If they needed his counsel they would ask for it. For now there were duties to be seen to. The Mol had been passably good caretakers for these last few years, but he would rest easier once he knew the state of his people now that all had returned from Eorzea. He pulled his gaze away from the rising golden sun, if he wanted to speak to the shepherds before they were too far afield than he’d best be about it. 

Discussions with the shepherds turned into an expedition to survey the populations of predators and game animals, which turned into a fight with Sadu about the Dorthal upholding their responsibilities to the Steppe, which tumbled on endlessly one task to the next. It was late afternoon by the time he dismounted his Yol and stepped into the Dawn Throne proper. Baatu was waiting for him just to the side of the landing platform and Magnai knew in the pit of his stomach he would not be getting any rest yet. 

“Lord Hein has sent a new diplomat, they arrived while you were seeing to the Steppe.” Baatu got to the point quickly. 

Magnai glared, another overdressed, smooth handed Doman politician whom he would rather cut his horns off than have to deal with. “Send them to the Mol. Cirina can handle the Lordling’s lackeys.”

“They were very insistent to have an audience with the new Khagun.” Baatu spread his hands as he shrugged. 

Magnai growled under his breath, “Tomorrow than.”

Baatu nodded giving up more easily than was normal. Magnai glared at his friend and brother trying to discern why. Baatu smile under the glare. “Art’imis brought her daughters to train with the Oronir for a few days before they must return to their duties with the dragon knights. A shinobi joined them at midday and it’s been a fairly entertaining afternoon.”

That Magnai smiled at. When it became known among the Xaela at the Eorzean front that the Kaghan had foster daughters, the girls were plucked from the Ishgardian ranks as often as possible. The Dragon Knights were formidable and fighting alongside and sparing with them had stretched his kinsman’s skills enough to make the journey worth it. But the Kaghan’s children should be trained by scions of Azim. Affable as the two girls were they had taken it in stride and forged friendships and rivalries with those their age with no regard to clan. That the former Khagan thought highly enough of the Oronir to bring the girls so far from Ishgard. And one of the Shinobi had come as well? That was a rare opportunity. The shadowy agents of Doma were not a foe often seen, let alone fought against or trained with. Baatu grinned and nodded in the right direction and walked with him to the training grounds. The sight that greeted him was satisfying. Art’imis was coaching a pair of youths that spared together. Her girls, Bel and Bianca were paying rapt attention to one of his most experienced warriors. He did not immediately see the shinobi. Oronir warriors in their prime clustered around a sparing circle avidly cheering and jeering a fight in progress. The match was engrossing enough that he had to resort to knocking a few heads so he could take his rightful place at the edge of the sparing ring. 

He’d never seen a vision more engrossing. 

The shinobi was a Raen woman dressed in indigo leather and chain armor that made no sound, and the expression… He’d seen many expressions on women in a fight; desperate, feral, manic, sadistic, but he had never seen one so, serene was too soft a word but he had none better. He watched enraptured by her carefully controlled movement, she made no unnecessary motions, all of her energy went into brutal grace that his warrior could not answer. She wove her Magics and daggers with skill and all her opponent could ever touch was her shadow. Her swept back horns and scales shimmered like the ivory satin he’d seen on noble ladies in Doma and Kuagane. Shimmered like the full moon on a summer night sky. She won her match, of course she won, such a daughter of the Dusk Mother would suffer no other outcome. And she was gracious in her victory bowing politely to her sparring partner and keeping any personal triumph muted. She was breathtaking, she was perfect, she could be no other. He stepped into the ring, “Shinobi, what is your name?”

She turned and looked at him intelligent hazel eyes taking in everything about him at a single glance. She gave him a formal bow in the Doman style. “I am Yugiri Mistwalker, Kahgan Magnai.” 

In his chest, his heart stuttered, gracious and respectful surely father Azim was smiling on him. “Never have I seen such grace Yugiri Mistwalker. Look into my eyes, you must be my Nahaam, who else could be if not such a perfect daughter of the Dusk Mother?”

Her jade and amber eyes met his without flinching. She held his gaze and it seemed her stature grew to meet his own the woman stood so tall. Sweat broke out on his palms and the muscles in his legs sparked with levin energy. Surely, surely this time he was not wrong. She did not blink, she did not dismiss him, she gave him no quarter. He did not know how long she held his gaze captive but finally he had to tear his eyes away lest his heart give out with its racing. She spoke again and her voice was infinitely calm and collected. “I look forward to fostering relations between our peoples Kahgan.” 

She did not return his ardor, she did not answer it, his words touched no more than her shadow just like the blows of her opponent. She bowed formally again and walked away to join the Warrior of Light and her daughters. He ignored the sounds of sympathy and frustration around him. Whispers that at least this one had been polite. The crowd dispersed and he turned to glare at Batuu who smirked, “And that my lord, would be the Doman emissary.”

* * *

Sunset found Magnai brooding on his throne. Batuu had made himself scarce after the incident with the shinobi and no one else had dared intrude on his solitude. No one except the Warrior of Light who walked in and merely arched an eyebrow at his glare like a mother scolding a petulant teenager. He ground his teeth, “Well?”

Art’imis rested her hands on her hips and considered him, “What are you actually looking in a Nahaam?”

Magnai blinked at her, “one’s Nahaam is ordained by the Dawn father and Dusk Mother.”

Art’imis drew in a long measured breath and released it. “A word of advise Magnai, even if you found some preordained connection, it won’t be enough.”

“Don’t mock our ways woman.” The kaghan growled. He might as well of thrown sand into the desert for all the effect it had. 

“Go talk to the men that have found their Nahaam and find out what really happened.” She drummed her fingers against the wide belt that supported both her sword and hunting dagger. “I would be willing to bet that such declarations were not made at the start.”

“What are you saying woman”

“That propositioning women like a drunk three drinks past his limit isn’t winning you any favors.”

The Oronir warrior stared at the Warrior of Light. He knew his jaw had dropped, but it was secondary to what he had just heard. After a moment he snapped his jaw shut and glared at the Raen woman. “I’ll not hide myself from my Nahaam.”

“I’m not asking you to.” The Warrior of Light shrugged. “I’m asking you to think about what your declarations sound like from the other side.”

Magnai’s scowl deepened as he thought through 

Art’imis’ words. Then became a flinch as he remembered the drunken advances made by soldiers at the front of the Garlean war. He remembered Sadu telling the Warrior’s foster daughters that the best response to such unwanted advances was a swift kick and a bit of fire. At the time he had assumed that it was an isolated incident, but now casting his thoughts back into his memories there were other incidents that he had dismissed as drunks being drunks.

“-staying on the Steepe for some time.”

Magnai blinked pulled from his brooding. Art’imis smirked at him and repeated herself before he could growl a request for it. “Hein assigned Yugiri as diplomat to the Xaela because you’ve run off all of his other diplomats. I believe Hakauro was hoping that you would just send her to Cirina so she could get a few moons rest.” 

Magnai blinked, “moons?”

“Hein is aware that the Xaela could be a threat to Doma if the steppe had a single mind to be. It’s in his interests to foster good relations.”

“Yugiri Mistwalker will be on the steppe for several moons?”

Art’imis smiled, her expression amused with hints of fondness. “You are a good man Magnai. I didn’t share my thoughts to wound your pride, only give you something to think about.”

“The Sun thanks you for you candor.” 

Art’imis rolled her eyes at the bombastic pronouncement. “I needs must return to Eorzea to follow up on unfinished business, but the girls have a few more days of leave before they have to go back to Ishgard. Put them to work a bit, it’s good for keeping their egos in check.”

Magnai laughed. “Perhaps if they perform too well I shall keep them for the Oronir rather than return them to the dragon knights.”

“That is a feat that I’d pay to watch you try to accomplish.” Art’imis gave the khagan a half bow of respect, “until next time Magnai.” 

He returned the bow with a nod and leaned back in his throne as the Warrior of Light turned and left. He rubbed the scales on his chin thoughtfully. Yugiri Mistwalker would be on the steppe for several moons….

**Author's Note:**

> It's not my fault I was enabled. 
> 
> And someone needs to get Yugiri away from Hein, the poor woman does not deserve to be shoved to the side as the keeper of Doma's only functioning brain cell.


End file.
